Tales
by KT-FeatherSage
Summary: The three kits sat down in front of the tortoiseshell elder. "Aww, please Rosewing! Please tell us another story!" Jaykit begged. "Oh, alright then. I'll tell you a story about the ghosts that come to haunt the cats that kill them." Haykit snorted. "There's no such thing as ghosts!" How wrong he would find himself in the future... (One-shot, this was supposed to be for Halloween)


The three kits sat down in front of the tortoiseshell elder.

"Aww, please Rosewing! Please tell us another story!" Jaykit begged.

"Come on now, kits, it's getting late." she replied.

"Pleeeeeaaaase!"

She laughed, "Oh, alright then. I'll tell you a story about the ghosts that come to haunt the cats that kill them."

Haykit snorted. "There's no such thing as ghosts!"

Ashkit gasped. "What about StarClan?"

"They're spirits!"

"What's the difference?"

"Settle down, now, do you want this story?" Rosewing called over to them. They immediately sat down again.

"Now then, there is an old tale about cats who kill for no reason. About the ghost of their victim coming back to haunt them. They say that from that night on, they are...not themselves. Punishments plague them, from echoing voices to visions to nightmares to physical harm. Until the cat either sees their ways or dies. But if they never do, in either life or death, then..."

Rosewing unsheathed a claw and drew it across her neck, making sure to not touch the soft flesh.

"You are dragged down into the Realm Of Lost Souls."

Jaykit and Ashkit squealed and whimpered with awe and scardiness. Meanwhile, Haykit merely snorted.

"How cat a dead cat possibly harm a living cat. There's no such thing as ghosts so, if you don't mind, I'm going off to bed!"

The two grey tabbies watched their brown-flecked golden brother stomp off into the Nursery, then turned back to Rosewing.

"Is that story really true?" Jaykit asked, widening her blue eyes.

Rosewing sighed. "No one knows for certain. There are just some things we have to find out the hard way..."

* * *

Haystone walked along the FlareClan border with Snaketail and Mintpatch behind him. He had his muscles tense, ready to fight. FlareClan had been quiet recently, and that put the Clan on edge. FlareClan were fiery and aggressive, always moving borders or picking fights. Unafraid of losing battle, they charged in to rip and tear at their enemies. But one thing unsettled him. They never killed. Even if someone invade _their _ territory, they never killed. The golden tom flexed his claws. Why did they not kill?

"Can you smell that?" Snaketail called, lifting her creamy muzzle into the air. Haystone snapped out of his thoughts and did the same, tasting the scents. He widened his eyes as he smelt FlareClan on OakClan land.

"Intruders! Come on!" he called, running forwards without waiting for them. He sprinted onward, eager to find and challenge the intruder. At last he broke through a bush to see a brown tabby tom with a cream chest and paws. He was small and thin for FlareClan. His amber eyes flicked to him, filled with fear, and he began to tremble. Then Haystone saw the fat vole in his jaws.

"Prey-stealer! You have trespassed on our land and stolen our prey. Time to pay!" he snarled, launching himself at the tom.

"W-wait! Our Clan is starv-" his plea was cut off as Haystone crashed into him, rolling him over and standing above him, pinning him down.

Thin or not, FlareClan were still fighters. He raked claws down Haystone's belly, and the golden tom fell off him, hissing. But his attack only made him pause for a heartbeat, and he was above him once more.

"FlareClan warrior, you have trespassed on OakClan land and stolen OakClan prey. Now time for your punishment."

The tom struggled to get out of his grip, but to no avail. His wails turned to shrieks and screams of terror as Haystone bit into his throat.

* * *

Haystone strode home with his quarry's vole in his bloodied jaws. Snaketail and Mintpatch were silent and solemn behind him, faces stoic. He didn't know what had quietened them, maybe the fact that this prey-stealing could lead up to a raid? At last camp approached and they padded in. There were gasps of shock as cats saw his bleeding belly and blood-stained muzzle, but Haystone ignored them and deposited his prize on the fresh-kill pile. Then, Rowanfur came up to him and bustled him into the Medicine Den. He was lain onto a bed of moss and Rowanfur began dabbing cobwebs soaked in marigold over the wound.

"Does it hurt much? Anywhere else?" the russet medicine cat asked him.

"No, nope." Haystone replied in frustration. He hated being fussed over in the Medicine Den.

"What happened?"

"An intruding prey-stealer from FlareClan."

"So you saw him off?"

"To StarClan, yes."

There was a heartbeat of silence in which Rowanfur dropped the wad of cobweb.

"Y-you're done." he said quietly, and the golden tom got up and left the Medicine Den.

Word of his kill had already spread, and several cats were talking in hushed whispers, glancing at him occasionally. He smiled. Fame would come soon. Then, Rushstar approached him. His tone was grave.

"Haystone, is it true that you killed a FlareClan warrior today?"

"Yes, Rushstar." he said confidently.

"Might I ask why?"

The golden tom inwardly rolled his eyes. "He was breaking the code by trespassing on our territory and stealing our prey!"

"Well, that may be so, but there is no need to go around killing randomly at will. I'm afraid I'll have to keep you in camp for a moon."

Haystone widened his eyes. "A moon? But I just possibly saved us from future raid, _and_ given them a warning that we are always guarding our borders!" he spat.

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and stalked off to the fresh-kill pile. He picked up his red vole and padded into the Nursery. Maybe his sister would see sense.

Jaydusk raised her head and opened her eyes as he entered. She looked once at the vole, then turned away her head with disgust.

"No! I will never it something someone killed another to achieve!" she cried. Haystone was taken aback. Foxfleck beside her hissed at him, and he turned and left, only to see Ashwind.

"Dear brother, whatever happened to you? Do you not remember that story Rosewing told us once?"

Haystone snorted, "You don't seriously still believe that nonsense, do you?"

Ashwind didn't reply, only turned and left camp.

* * *

That night, Haystone sat on a pile of moss in front of the rotting tree stump. No one in the Warriors' Den had wanted to sleep next to him, so he had taken himself outside. He curled up and prepared to fall asleep when he heard someone calling him. He looked up, expecting to see someone running towards him. But there was no one. He sighed and decided he was hearing things, then settled back down again.

"Haystone..."

His head shot up again. He definitely heard that. But -again- there was no one.

"Who...who's there?" he called out softly, his heart beginning to beat faster.

"Haystone!" it wailed in terror, "HAYSTONE!"

Then the screaming came again. Wails of terror and Haystone felt it creep up him. But as he looked around wildly, he saw no one calling, no one waking, and no one hearing the screams like him. He let out a moan and buried his face in the moss, and -covering his ears with his paws- falling asleep.

But nightmares soon disturbed the peace. He was that brown-and cream FlareClan tom beneath the golden tom with brown flecks and crazed amber eyes that was himself. He shrieked out of pure fear as the jaws closed around his neck, and woke up shaking. Screams still echoed around. His eyes were wide and terror was setting his fur on end. Everywhere he looked, shadowy jaws were reaching in to snap and tear at him. He tried to yell, but his mouth seemed locked shut. Breathing hard and his heart pounding furiously, he leapt out of his nest and bounded out of camp, not caring if anyone caught him.

He ran through the forest. Every rock, bush and tree took the shape of sharp teeth, and the quarter-moon looked like a narrowed, slitted eye filled with hatred and bloodlust. Haystone panted loudly, gasping for breath, as he skidded to a halt beside a pool. He sighed and crouched down to drink, clearing his mind of the terror and panic. He opened his eyes as he stood up, and saw a shadowy figure standing beside him in the reflection. Yet when he turned and slashed at it with unsheathed claws, there was no one there.

Suddenly another shadow cat flew at him with unsheathed claws. It crashed into him and rolled him over and over until it stood above him, pinning him down. Haystone could only breathe and blink. Terror had paralysed the rest of his body, as though the coldness of the shadow was creeping down him, freezing him. But then the shadowy figure flickered to the FlareClan tom, then back and then again and again. At first he was the same as when Haystone killed him, eyes shining with fear, but on the last flicker it stayed, and his eyes were narrow and furious, thirsty for vengeance. Haystone prepared to scream with pain as the jaws closed around his neck once more, but there was none.

The world vanished, and he had the familiar sensation of dreaming as everything became the FlareClan Nursery. Haystone looked down and saw his victim as a tiny kit, with his littermates and denmates around him. They were laughing and mocking and taunting and teasing. And the little kit could do nothing. Then suddenly they were all warriors. FlareClan was starving, and even thought that was the case, these cats would not give up their bullying.

"Ha! I think when you're the cat hunting for the Clan, we should all give up and die like you should have a long time ago."

We're the only words he heard properly. The small warrior turned and fled the camp. He ran through the forest, blinking back tears, until he reached the OakClan border. His ears pricked as he saw the fat vole and he began to stalk forwards. Words echoed around both his and Haystone's head.

_This'll show them._

He pounced, catching the vole and killing it immediately, but he had only just looked up when Haystone crashed into him. He was pinned beneath him, and the belly rake was the only attack he got in before the jaws sank down. Haystone winced as the vision faded.

He was returned to his territory standing up by the pool. He looked up at the stars.

"I-I understand now." he called out to them, "I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"

And he truly felt it. Shame, sorrow and guilt came to him, an expression he had never felt before. He sobbed, and he felt dizzy. Haystone began to stumble about before he fell backwards into the pond and began to sink down.

His head below him and his tail and back legs pointed at the surface, he was aware that the water felt like his mother's touch, relieving and comforting. There was no escape. He hadn't realised the pool was so deep. He just hope death didn't contaminate it. Maybe his soul running up out of it would purify it. He smiled as he saw the light at the top that was the moon, rippling with the surface. He was aware that the black mist was beginning to swallow him and felt happy. Everything was at peace at last.

Haystone sank down, fading from the living world forever.


End file.
